


Door

by Templeton (StAnni)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 08:40:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16761757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StAnni/pseuds/Templeton
Summary: They have never been overly sentimental – that is what Derek calls anything to do with intimacy – sentimentality.  He doesn’t believe in it.  He reserves his heart for his pack.  And while he has never said that to Stiles, it clearly is the case.  When he explained to Derek that Derek sleeping with other people while they are seeing each other does not fly with him, Derek literally looked at him as if he was insane – as if he was dreaming if he thought that Derek would limit himself like that.That was a while ago, and whilst their once open relationship was then begrudgingly closed a few months later – it still feels, not always but sometimes, that Derek is just pretending to stay.  That it is all just pretense.  That the moment Stiles will slip up, because he will, Derek will have an excuse to leave.And then Lydia died and now trying not to slip up, even just trying to do a halfway decent job of being human seems pointless.  Now Stiles knows that nobody needs to do anything for any reason.





	Door

It is a mess. Everything is a mess. Derek is trying, he is trying not to lose his cool with Stiles and it is clear, so apparent. It hurts that Derek needs to try this hard and Stiles cannot accept that this one thing, this particular terrible thing that should push them together, is what is splintering them apart. Derek is in the door of the bedroom and he is frustrated – it is emanating off of him like heat waves. His jaw is set and his fingers are curled in fists at his side. “You have to get up, Stiles. You have work. You can’t…do this anymore.”

He wants to say that nobody really needs to do anything. Nobody needs to get up. Nobody needs to work. You can just put a gun in your mouth and pull the trigger like Lydia did. Problems solved.

He doesn’t though – and not because he thinks that it is insensitive or untrue – just because they don’t really talk about things anymore. Derek just talks at him. Derek tells him to get better, tells him not to be sad, tells him that they need to go back to normal. There is no normal anymore.   
Stiles stares at him from the bed. He gets up without a word and Derek follows him to the bathroom. He showers, he dresses and Derek follows him back to the bedroom where he gets into bed.

“You have to get yourself together, Stiles.” Stiles knows that Derek doesn’t mean it to sound so filled with contempt, but that is what it does sound like and what it feels like is a particularly cold steel shaft through Stiles’ heart. 

They have never been overly sentimental – that is what Derek calls anything to do with intimacy – sentimentality. He doesn’t believe in it. He reserves his heart for his pack. And while he has never said that to Stiles, it clearly is the case. When he explained to Derek that Derek sleeping with other people while they are seeing each other does not fly with him, Derek literally looked at him as if he was insane – as if he was dreaming if he thought that Derek would limit himself like that. 

That was a while ago, and whilst their once open relationship was then begrudgingly closed a few months later – it still feels, not always but sometimes, that Derek is just pretending to stay. That it is all just pretense. That the moment Stiles will slip up, because he will, Derek will have an excuse to leave.

And then Lydia died and now trying not to slip up, even just trying to do a halfway decent job of being human seems pointless. Now Stiles knows that nobody needs to do anything for any reason. 

Derek climbs on top of him and for that time, for that time when it is just skin and spit and come, he is alive. He grips at Derek and moans when Derek slides inside of him, splitting him open slowly, so deep that he can feel his heart move, beat again. 

He allows Derek to pull him up, to hold him back against his chest to make him watch with hooded eyes in the mirror as Derek drives into him at a hypnotic pace. He opens his mouth to Derek’s mouth, to his cock, to his shoulder and gasps as Derek comes with a long moan inside of him. They fuck like they love each other, like they want each other. It is easy to imagine during those times that Derek does want him. 

But the fights are getting worse. Derek tells Stiles that he is selfish, that he should think about what Lydia would have wanted for him. Derek tells Stiles that he needs to get up, shower, that he smells. Stiles knows that Derek is saying things to get him going – to egg him on, to bait him. But it all feels like heavy blows, it feels like betrayal. And finally it feels like Stiles is a scrambled mess, that he is dirty and unkempt. And when he stops fighting back it only makes Derek’s outbursts so much more volatile. 

Derek pulls his face to him as he pushes into Stiles “Look at me” He moves, rough and fast, angry “Look at me.” when Stiles tries to look away, tries to blink the tears from his eyes. It is different to how they are with each other. They are both uneven.   
Derek grabs a fistful of Stiles hair and pulls out without care, turning Stiles over. He mounts him as he pushes him down and whilst holding him in place fucks Stiles down into the mattress, ignoring his gasps. It is utterly devoid of any gentleness, it is just fucking.   
Derek finally pulls out again, grabs Stiles by the chin, harshly, and comes on his face. Stiles is left shocked, wet and on his knees as Derek walks away from the bed. 

Everything falls apart. It crumbles to pieces in excruciating slow motion. It feels like Stiles’ heart comes undone stitch by painful stich – it’s dark and empty chambers collapsing in silently. 

Derek laughs when he is with his pack, when he talks to Scott, when he watches television alone. When Stiles is with him he is quiet, removed. Stiles feels like he is being erased. 

Derek doesn’t try to get him out of bed anymore. He doesn’t kiss him or fuck him anymore. Derek smells like other men. He smiles at everyone but Stiles. When he does look at Stiles it is with what looks like a deep quiet regret – like he is trapped by a child, like he could leave at any time, he is just still deciding when. Most days it feels like Stiles has stopped breathing – that maybe Lydia took him with her. He feels like a ghost. 

They have never been overly sentimental but it feels like at some point in time they were more. It feels like the best part is already behind them and Derek is way ahead of him. He feels alone.

It is a month later when Derek doesn’t come home for the entire night. Stiles stares at the ceiling.

He breathes out into the darkness and breathes the darkness back in. 

He tries to convince himself that he really should not feel this sense of loss, because he never really had Derek to start with. Because no one really has anyone, ever, not really.

When he wakes up it is almost noon. Derek is sitting on the edge of the bed – still in the clothes from the day before. He smells like sex, he is upset – not facing Stiles, running his hands over his face. Stiles closes his eyes before Derek can see that he is awake but his heartbeat gives him away.  
“I know you’re awake, Stiles. We need to talk.”

Stiles opens his eyes and Derek meets his guarded look with a guarded look of his own. Derek shakes his head, his voice is like gravel – emotional “I can’t be with you anymore.”

It is expected, it was the only thing that Derek could have said to him after staying away from their home for an entire night – but Stiles still doesn’t expect it to hit as hard as it does. He swallows – his throat thick and his heart blooming in pain. He doesn’t trust himself to answer so he doesn’t even venture it.

Derek doesn’t expect an answer either. It is clear that Derek expects very little of him. “So I am going to move out, I’m going to find another place.”

Stiles breathes because he is feeling lightheaded and he didn’t realize that he was holding his breath. Derek looks at him. Stiles turns his head, blinking away tears forming in the corner of his eyes. Derek looks guilty, suffering, torn. But he doesn’t touch Stiles, they haven’t touched each other in days and Stiles will never feel Derek’s touch again. He has to sit up. He has to sit up or he will cry and he is not going to cry.

Derek watches him as he sits up. He is not looking at Derek but Derek seems to be watching him intently. “Are you not going to say anything?”   
Stiles shakes his head and Derek drops his shoulders – giving up. 

There is an absolute silence between them. The silence of an empty room after you lock the door to it.


End file.
